The Letters Never Sent
I write letters. That’s it. I don’t send letters, I just write them. Letters that bring out all the rage, all the sadness, and all the words I never got to say. My senior year of high school was a literal disaster and drama followed me everywhere. In my professional life of theater and dance, my social life, and even my love life. There were constant instances of stress and turmoil and the only way to could let these people know what was going on in my brain was by writing it out on a page. These letters are always addressed to someone, but never sent their way. Why? Because I can never really be confrontational or let someone know they affect me, that is pure WEAKNESS. Weakness is something that never gets anyone anywhere in life. So I would rather keep pushing forward, achieving all that I can achieve, and just write my letters to keep the peace. I mean at least keep the peace in the real world, in my head, that is a different story.
Dear Brenda,
You royally messed up my senior year in ways you could not even fathom. Five months, also known as 20 weeks, is also known as 151 days. That is how long your reign of terror took over every part of my life. Even parts of my life that you didn’t even need to exist in. My relationship with my boyfriend, my relationship with my family, my relationship with the performing arts, my relationship with myself, all consumed by your insatiable need to make me feel like a loser. Every single day was spent pondering why this little thing, which wouldn’t affect most people, took the biggest toll on me. You and I were the only people to audition for the role. It took me six months of research and rehearsal to prep for this silly little senior-year musical audition, it took you six days. After that cast list came out and I saw your name right next to my boyfriend’s name, I thought my soul left my body. I reacted as if someone had died. Some would say I was overdramatic, but it was those words you said to me before the audition that struck my heart the hardest when things turned out just the way you planned. “I deserve it more than you, isn’t it time you give someone else a turn”. You said that, trust me I have the text receipts. In what world did you know how much effort I put in? How do you know what I deserve? What in your right mind made you think that I am unworthy of something, without even knowing my work ethic? What made you think that now you can obsess over the boy I have been holding onto for 2 years? There are two things you NEVER judge in my world; my work ethic and those I love. Somehow you found a way to do both every day for five months. From the obsessing over kissing my boyfriend, the controlling drama club comments, to the constant snickering about me in front of my face! I am thankful to be in a place now where this finally feels to be over, but I still think about the place you put me in from time to time, and that will never end.
Thanks,
Elizabeth
Brenda honestly does not even deserve the time of day after how she made me feel. I just do not understand why I let her get to me this much. She knows that I was upset with her, and everyone knows why too. That entire altercation was so public there weren’t students of that school who did not know I was upset at her. I am not gonna lie, I do not think she even deserves any further attention from me, she knows what she has done.
Dear Ms. Katherine,
Thank you for ruining dance for me. I appreciate the powerful way you crushed all the love and joy I had coming into that little studio for 15 years in 5 whole minutes. I guess I should have seen it coming because of the way you let the other girls take away every ounce of confidence I had, and then proceeded to feed into their torture methods by only complimenting me in secret, but critiquing me loud enough for the neighbors to hear. In my mind, the moment you called me down to do my solo for you, everything was over. All I did was leave rehearsal early to attend a charity event a week prior to that fateful day. That is it. I didn’t commit a crime and I didn’t say anything mean to you. It is the fact you raised me from age 5 to 18 and somehow you still didn’t know who I really am. Twice a week I came in for six whole hours to learn from you about dancing and about life. I have always been a well-rounded kid, being in dance, cheer, drama, chorus, NHS, and everything in between, but that never bothered you until my senior year. That moment you called me down to do my solo, I don’t know what washed over you, but I would never wish it on anyone else in this world. Having the woman who mothered you tell you that you were worth nothing more than a plastic trophy and some bragging rights, can you imagine that? In that little studio, my love of dance was born, and in that studio 15 years later it died. The whole way home that night I listened to Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish just to scream and cry at the ending. “You ruined everything good. Always said you were misunderstood. Made all my moments your own. Just f***ing leave me alone” plays in my head every time I think about that night. To this day I still remember the coldest goodbye I ever said when I left your studio for the last time, and every time I drive by the place I used to call my second home I feel the chill of the concrete ground and the wet tears on my face from that night when I collapsed outside my car from the honest heartbreak.
I am happier than ever,
Elizabeth
Now this one here…this one hit pretty hard. It is insane to watch myself write up that letter and still feel the pure rage and disappointment I felt over a year ago when she shared her true feelings with me. Sometimes my mom thinks I should go to therapy over that confrontation, but honestly, just like all the others, I do not know if she deserves all the glorious negative attention I am giving her. It is what she would want from me. To feel bad, guilty, disappointed, and failed as a person. I just think even with writing this letter, I can’t let it go. She probably thinks I do feel those things, where in reality I know she was wrong and I still am trying to prove her wrong in all the moves I make in life. I just wish she knew that.
Dear Ryan,
I just have one question for you. What about me wasn’t enough for you? I really am genuinely confused as to what your deal is. Even looking back on those 2 years I was lusting after you, I still feel I was at my prime in every way. Senior year I had confidence on a level I don’t think I will ever experience again, and you loved that. The hold you had on me was so strong that I could not possibly see anything wrong with you, but you had to have seen something wrong with me. Even with all the compliments on my body, my face, my hair, my personality, my humor, something just wasn’t right for you. For months I spent time looking at myself from every angle to see what could have been wrong to keep you from wanting a life with me, but I never got my answer. Was I too clingy? I wasn’t trying to be, I was really just trying to get you to see how much I genuinely cared about you. To top it all off, after this little love affair ended and all the subtle flirting went away, you still were always there when I was at my lowest. I lost all the things I cared about to the pandemic, you texted me every day to make sure I didn’t feel alone. My boyfriend dumps me, and you show up and take me to my cousin’s wedding. The kid playing my love interest in a musical gets kicked out, and you give up your senior tennis season to come and stand by my side and sing some songs. Personally, it does not add up how you can keep appearing in huge ways and disappearing so quickly afterward. You’re like a superhero coming in to save the day, but you cannot show me your true identity so you run away before I can thank you. Though none of that matters anymore. I have found the guy of my dreams and he is everything good I saw in you and none of the bad. He stays by my side and truly means all the words he says, unlike you did. So I guess I can say thank you for showing me that I deserve better than you and that I can be in love and be loved back.
Your friend,
Elizabeth
Now this one REALLY is not worth the time of day. I do not even know why I wrote this one. I guess it was to do the high school version of me some justice. It is hysterical really. Now we talk about this time and laugh at how embarrassing I was crushing on him, while inside I’m screaming “Just apologize and I will fade away just like you did so many times”. Except unlike him, I won’t ever come crawling back. I just know deep down he is still thinking “what if” about all the times we came together, and that helps me sleep at night.
Dear Miranda,
I hate you. I hate the way you glare at me across the room. I hate the way you won’t let me be right. I hate the way you talk over me. I hate the way you feel like you deserve more than anyone. I hate the way you walked around with all my “friends” as your minions, pinning them against me every time I walked into the studio. I hate the way you had everything I wanted for five years. I guess the word I could actually use for you is loathe because I can never describe the depth of pain you have caused me. Personally, I just don’t understand how you can get all the solos, all the friends, all the praise, and all the attention, but still feel the need to take more from me. You are the reason I feel so undeserving of recognition and why I downplay every single ounce of positive attention I receive. I really thought that once this whole dance nightmare was over you would be able to look me in the eye and treat me like a human being. However, I guess you decided hiding from me and removing me from any possible point of contact was a better option. Honestly, all I wanted to say to you was that I thought we could have been friends after the life of competition was over, but I mean I can just assume that for you it still isn’t done. I just wish that I would have been able to say something before you disappeared from view, but sometimes I think I was better that I didn’t. At least that I didn’t speak to you before realizing we are all moving on and growing up. This means that growing up would be forgiving you and not getting angry for our petty ways in our youth. Though before now, out of all the scenarios I played in my head of the day I confronted you with pure anger, not a single one left me feeling satisfied. So here I am typing the words you will never read, but still unable to capture the true feeling you left me with, but I guess that is how it was meant to be.
Sincerely (I guess),
Elizabeth
That was so weird. I think I just resolved my own inner conflict in writing. The way the words clearly shifted as I realized that she wasn’t worth my time and effort all along. I guess that is what maturing is like, which is definitely something I hope to be doing soon. Personally, I am no grudge holder. It is exhausting. Though some people make the concept sound like a walk in the park. Miranda is one of them. She makes the idea of hating her for random, frivolous things so exciting and fun. I am sure that I can find that entertainment in some other aspect of my life, so for now I will say her being gone is fine.
Dear Elizabeth,
I appreciate your honesty, but I think you got it all wrong. I did not say any of those things and I feel that I was certainly taken out of context. I hope you did not share this information with anyone because spreading false information is not the way to feel better about things. From a young on up, I helped raise you into the person you are today, and I always told you to keep your problems at the door and not bring your attitude into our safe space. The other dancers and I have always been kind and respectful towards each other and I do not see where you are getting this negativity from. I did not need your presence in the studio, but I wanted it there. I valued you in many ways, but if you were going to bring down the class I did not see why you should be continuing to be a part of the group. Though I did my absolute best and made sure you and the other girls had the best senior season possible. Truly, I do not know what more you could ask of me. I hope you have learned something from this experience and do not continue this behavior for the rest of your life, it is very unprofessional and unproductive. I taught you better than this immaturity.
Sincerely,
Miss Katherine
Dear Miss Katherine,
Thanks for your letter, the way you carry yourself seems to not have changed, but I appreciate you proving my point in every way you could have in that brief letter.
Take care,
Elizabeth
Oh yeah, I totally just said that.
Yup. I sent it. That one I just couldn’t hold back. The worst thing she could’ve done was not respond. Turns out her response was actually worse than her keeping this letter to herself. My entire childhood was spent listening to that woman and her student’s little jabs at me during each rehearsal. It was inescapable. Even little things like glances and whispers got to me, and she just fed off of that and used it to make me feel worse and worse until that day my senior year when she decided to just let it fly. The whole time I typed out that letter I heard “Now go get it together before the other girls see” as I was tearing up looking at my laptop. That was when I decided this one needed to be heard by someone other than me. The comfort would be found in knowing that she could read my pain and let it play in the back of her mind as she continued to teach new little girls. Though I guess her head was just too thick for the words to seep through. From now on I think these are just going to stay “the letters never sent”.
Original Writing Link:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vzpVF3z8ATPQa9tREtiRDuY1BmryDeigMaCwchkk4f8/edit
